Being Watched While Being Ill
by Bob Bennit
Summary: You’ll never know that your best friend loves you back, until he’s making you soup and holding your hair back as you throw up. A Ron and Hermione Story.
1. Prologue

**Being Watched While Being Ill**

**Summary: **You'll never know that your best friend loves you back, until he's making you soup and holding your hair back as you throw up. A Ron and Hermione Story.  
**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup either.**

**Prologue**

Hermione Granger lay in her bed, waiting for the nauseated feeling to leave her. _'How long have I been sick?' _Hermione asked herself, rolling onto her side. She rested her head on her arm, and her other arm held her stomach. She left the question unanswered, and continued with her ramblings.

'_Of course, I had to get sick on this day, out of all the days of the year.'_ Hermione said. Nothing was really happening that day. They had their Auror checkups, and they had to take their potions. _'I get sick on the day I basically go to the doctors.'_

Hermione looked at her alarm clock and groaned. She was fifteen minutes late for work. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, and sat up. Immediately afterwards, she felt like someone had bludgeoned her head. She lay back down, covering her head with a pillow. Tears had sprung to her eyes, the pain in her head nearly unbearable.

'_Just kill me now.'_ Hermione stated helplessly. _'Or somebody come save me.' _She added as an afterthought.

-----

BB/N: Okay, so there really is no point in having this as a prologue, but hey…I…don't really know why I'm doing this.

Anyway, writers block is slowly disappearing, and I'm sorry to all the Sleepless War readers, and to cyancrystaldolphins the most. Hopefully I can get over the feeling of constantly holding the delete button while I'm looking at Sleepless War.

I deleted it off the computer the other day, but I couldn't bring myself to leaving it in the Recycle Bin, so I brought it back.

How pathetic?

It makes me laugh.

Anyway, I hope everyone is doing okay. I have a cold right now. I think I got it from the football game…Stupid band uniforms aren't warm enough.

Have A Nice Day!

Sincerely,

Bob Bennit


	2. Finding You

**Being Watched While Being Ill**

**Summary: **You'll never know that your best friend loves you back, until he's making you soup and holding your hair back as you throw up. A Ron and Hermione Story.  
**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup either.**

**Chapter One: Finding You**

"I can't believe you're going to make me do this." Ron stated, pulling his wand out of his pocket.

"I'm up next for my potions. 'W' will come later." Harry stated.

"But she'll probably be in a horrible mood if she finds out she's late from me. Are you sure today isn't her day off?"

I'm positive." Harry said, slapping Ron on the back. "We haven't had a day off in a good six or seven months."

"That's wrong. You and Ginny both skipped work to go to the park." Ron said. "But I forgave you for that, so lets forget about it. I don't want to do it."

"Ron."

"Harry."

"Ron."

"_Harry_." Ron said persistently. "She's going to kill me."

"It's all right. I'll send flowers." Harry said, smiling at Ron.

Ron glared at him, as he got his cloak. He put it on, and then was about to apparate when he said, "I hope one of the Healers sticks something up your bum and it hurts."

-----

Ron apparated to the front of Hermione's flat complex. He took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, watching the small poof of smoke appear in front of his face. It was cold out, so Ron quickly walked up the pathway, nearly slipping on a patch of ice. He caught his balance, and quickly made his way into the complex.

A staircase was towards the left of the door, and Ron took it, taking them two or three at a time, quickly making it to the floor Hermione lived on.

Ron walked to Hermione's door, and knocked on it. When no one came, he started banging on it.

-----

Hermione lifted the pillow off her face and blinked tiredly. "Yay, someone's come to save me." She slowly got off the bed, and gripped the headboard for support. She was dizzy, and she didn't want to fall.

Listening to the banging on the door, Hermione concluded that maybe her savior could be a little nicer by not _banging_ on the door.

Hermione slowly made her way to the front door, the banging reverberating around her skull. She made it to the front door, and leaned against it. She was tired, by walking out of her bedroom, down a hallway, and into her living room, where her front door was located.

After a moment of listening to the unstoppably loud banging, Hermione reached for the lock. She undid them, and the knocking stopped.

Just as she was about to turn the doorknob, Hermione let go. Her hands flew over her mouth, as her mouth began to water, and her stomach churn.

Ron stood on the other side of the door, confused. He heard the little clicks that the door made when she was unlocking it. Why wasn't the door opening? "Hermione?" He asked.

All he heard was an audible groan through the door, and then heavy footsteps aimed away from the door.

Ron was worried, so he opened the door and entered Hermione's flat. He saw her going down the hallway, nearly running towards the bathroom.

Ron followed her, but stopped short as he heard Hermione at the toilet.

Being the gentleman Ron thought he was, he waited for Hermione outside the bathroom, tapping his foot to a tune in his head, trying to block out the horrible noises his best female friend was making.

After a minute or so, Hermione laid her head on the side of her arm and flushed the toilet. "That's disgusting." Hermione said darkly, realizing that her hair had gotten in the way of whatever was coming out of her mouth. She pulled her hair away from her face, frowning in disgust. "Who's here?" She asked.

"Ron." Ron said.

"Get me a shirt." Hermione said, shakily standing up. "I made a mess of my hair."

Ron did as he was told, and made his way to Hermione's dresser in her bedroom. He grabbed her a shirt from her dresser, and then made his way back to the bathroom. Hermione, from the looks of it, was trying to drown herself in the sink…

In actuality, she was washing her hair.

Ron stood in the doorway, watching as Hermione washed her hair. He was quiet, and held her shirt.

Hermione finished and wrapped a towel around her head. She grabbed her shirt from Ron, and rather pathetically, pushed him out of the bathroom.

Hermione changed her shirt, and threw her other one on the floor rather carelessly. Then she slowly opened the bathroom door. Now she wasn't in a good mood.

"You didn't have to bang on the door." Hermione snapped, walking passed Ron. He was standing outside the bathroom door.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked. "I came here to check on you."

"Well, don't." Hermione lied. She paused in her walking, halfway through the hallway. Her head felt like it was going to explode, and she was getting dizzy. She tried walking forward a bit, and then she stumbled backwards. Before she hit the ground though, Ron had caught her.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

"I don't feel good." Hermione mumbled, closing her eyes. "But I can manage on my own. Let go of me." Hermione lied.

"I don't think so." Ron said, helping Hermione to her feet. "I'm going to tell Harry that I'm stay with you for the day."

"Ron, I'm fine." Hermione said, trying and failing, to pathetically get out of his grasp. He wasn't even holding her tightly.

Ron shook his head, but didn't say anything. He let go of Hermione, and watched her as she stumbled her way into her living room. He followed closely, making sure she didn't hurt herself.

'_Sometimes I hate it that she's so independent.'_ Ron thought bitterly. He watched as Hermione collapsed onto the couch. "Are you hungry?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. Ron just sighed. "I'll make you some soup then, when I come back."

"Don't come back! I'll be fine by myself." Hermione said. Ron just shook his head and apparated away.

-----

BB/N: I'm really stupid. Utterly and remotely stupid.

I kept checking my e-mail today, expecting to find a review, because I was positive I updated this morning, and I was gettng angry! I thought everyone gave up on me.

Just a minute ago, I realized I had finished the chapter, and then got off the computer, not realizing that I hadn't updated. I was getting mad for no reason. That makes me angry.

Have A Nice Day and or Evening!


	3. Only For You

**Being Watched While Being Ill**

**Summary: **You'll never know that your best friend loves you back, until he's making you soup and holding your hair back as you throw up. A Ron and Hermione Story.  
**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup either.**

**Chapter Two: Only For You**

Ron was standing in line at the grocery store. He hated Muggle shopping. It took too long. First you had to put your groceries on the conveyor belt, and then they had to scan each and every individual item, and then something usually goes wrong. Plus, Ron was standing behind a man with at least 20 billion items.

Ron just had four cans of Chicken Noodle Soup and a carton of orange juice. Just four cans and orange juice!

His ears were still red from when he argued with the man in front of him. His friend was sick for Merlin's sake, and this man wouldn't even let him get in front of him.

After a good five minutes, the man was gone, and Ron gladly scooted up so his cans and carton of orange juice could get scanned.

"Is someone sick?" The cashier asked. She ever so slowly started to scan his items.

"Yeah, my friend is sick, and I'm just getting some soup for her." Ron stated, running his hand through his hair.

"Well, that's nice of you."

This woman was going so slowly! Ron just wanted to scan his items for her. When she finally got everything scanned, Ron wanted to rejoice. "$3.76." The lady said. Ron handed her five pounds, and waited for the change. Meanwhile, he grabbed his bags, and was on the verge of running from the store.

-----

When Ron reached Hermione's flat, he knocked on her door once, heard her say something along the lines of "What?" and then opened the door.

Hermione was lying on her couch, curled up, and shivering. Ron took the groceries to the kitchen, and put them on the counter. Then he came back to the living room. He walked to Hermione, and she opened her eyes just a little bit to look at him.

"You came back?" She asked in a whisper. Her voice was now nasally congested, and it looked like she couldn't make her voice louder than a whisper.

"Of course I did. I said I would." Ron stated quietly. He reached down and felt her forehead. "You're running a fever." He said. "And your hair is soaking wet. Why didn't you dry it?"

Hermione threw her hand out and pointed toward her room. "My wands' in there." She said quietly. She opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a sneeze.

Ron shook his head and sighed. He pulled out his wand and tapped Hermione's head twice, reciting the drying charm. When he was finished, Hermione sat up just a little bit, closing her eyes as her brain pounded against her skull.

"Are you hungry?" Ron asked. "I can make you some soup, and then you can take some medicine or something."

"I'm not hungry." Hermione said, running her hand over her nose. Ron hadn't noticed, but Hermione had a small bottle of hand sanitizer sitting on her end table. She reached for it, and squirted some on her hands, sanitizing them.

"You need to get something in your system." Ron argued. He began walking to the kitchen, Hermione's soft, nasally congested voice following, but not her body.

"I'm fine Ron!" She said, resisting the urge to scream. Her throat hurt enough. _'What in Merlin's name am I sick with?'_ She asked herself. Hermione heard Ron going through her cupboards, looking for a pan to cook her soup in. She flinched when a loud clatter of pans fell to the floor, followed by a few swear words.

Every sound reverberated against her skull, making it eleven or twelve times louder than what it was.

A few minutes later, Ron came back with a steaming bowl of soup on a tray. Along with it was a cup of orange juice. Ron put the tray on Hermione's end table, and then he helped her sit up. He could see the pained expression on her face as she lifted her head off the arm of the couch.

When she was sitting up all the way, he set the tray on her lap. "Take your time, you don't have to eat it all." Ron said. He stood and watched her eat and drink.

After about four spoonfuls of soup, and a few sips of her orange juice, Ron noticed that her skin color had paled, if possible, to an even paler color. He watched as Hermione shakily put the tray on the end table. She returned her hands to her lap, and Ron saw that they were shaking horribly bad.

"Hermione…?"

"Help me up." Hermione demanded quietly. Her voice was extremely soft, and it took a moment for Ron to understand her.

Using both hands, Ron helped Hermione to her feet, and she swayed a bit. When Ron was sure Hermione was balanced, he let her go. She stumbled her way towards the bathroom, her legs shaky.

Ron followed, and caught her before her legs gave way. "I need to get to the bathroom." Hermione groaned. Ron helped her up, and helped her to the bathroom.

Not wanting Hermione to get cold again, when washing her hair, he stood behind her and held her hair back.

Hermione felt tears come to her eyes as she flushed the toilet.

Using one hand, Ron held Hermione's hair back, and reached for the clean glass that was sitting on the counter. He filled it up with water, and handed it to Hermione. Hermione swigged the water, and then spit it in the toilet, trying to get rid of the foul flavor in her mouth.

Hermione pulled away from the toilet, and Ron let go of her hair. "Can I take medicine now?" Hermione asked.

Ron nodded his head. Hermione pointed to her medicine cabinet. "I have stuff in there." She said. Ron again, nodded his head, and opened the cabinet. He saw Hermione's toothbrush and toothpaste. Above that shelf, he saw small bottles. He started reading them.

Ron started comparing her symptoms to the bottles. _'She's not coughing, but she's sneezing. Vomiting, headaches…what kind of medicine is this? It has everything in it…'_ "Are you stiff?" Ron asked, turning towards Hermione.

"A little." Hermione replied. "My back hurts."

"You've got just about every symptom known to man, and it's on this bottle." Ron said. He looked at the label. "Ibuprofen." He looked at the directions, and it said for her to take two.

Ron opened the bottle, and poured out two small red pills. He held the two pills, and closed the lid.

Handing Hermione the pills, he watched as she put them in her mouth, and swallowed them with water.

Ron helped Hermione stand up, and he helped her back to the couch. At first she struggled a bit, saying she could walk herself back to the couch, but Ron didn't believe her. So he helped her anyway.

And now, Hermione was fast asleep, covered up with a red blanket, on the couch. Ron was putting her bowl of soup in her microwave, or as he called it, 'The Minnie wave thingy'. He dumped her orange juice down the drain, and ate the chicken soup that was left in the pan. He tried to do every thing quietly, so as not to wake her.

When he was finished, he looked at the clock. Hermione had been asleep for an hour at least. He decided that he would wake her in two hours, so he could have her eat some more, and get more fluids in her system. He didn't want her to get dehydrated.

Ron walked into the living room, and sat down on the floor, in front of the couch. Before he knew it, he was asleep, his head resting against Hermione's stomach.

-----

BB/N: Hi! This chapter was interesting to write, seeing how it was 4:00 in the morning when I started it.

I hope everyone likes this chapter. I can't believe that this story was supposed to be a one shot. But I managed to make it have a pointless prologue and everything! Wow! I'm good. I'm on a role!

Now I must leave you to your other readings.

But before I go, sorry for not updating in like years! We've had some emergencies, band camp, and the fact that our Internet was shut off for a week didn't make the matters anymore pleasant.

Have a Nice Day or Evening!

Sincerely,

Bob Bennit


	4. The Porcelain King

**Being Watched While Being Ill**

**Summary: **You'll never know that your best friend loves you back, until he's making you soup and holding your hair back as you throw up. A Ron and Hermione Story.  
**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup either.**

**Chapter Three: The Porcelain King**

Hermione woke up, sneezing. The ibuprofen had kicked in, but her head was still pounding. She pressed the palms of her hands on her eyes, trying to make the headache go away. When that didn't work, she removed her hands from her eyes, and laid still. She began listening to the soft snores coming from her midsection. That's when she realized that Ron was asleep, his head resting on her stomach.

Smiling softly to herself, she tried sitting up slowly. She gasped in pain, as her head felt like it had exploded.

Ron woke with a start, the gasp being the loudest thing he heard since he dropped the pans in the kitchen. He quickly looked up at Hermione, staring at her. "Are you okay?" He began getting up, and paused on his knees. "Do you need anything?"

Hermione was about to shake her head, when she thought better of it. "I don't feel good." She said, summing up her aches and pains in four words.

"I know that." Ron said. He got up the rest of the way. "Lay back down. You've only been asleep for," He glanced at the clock on the wall. "two and a half hours." He said.

"I'm not tired anymore." Hermione said, sniffling.

Ron put the back of his hand on her forehead. "You're still running a fever." He said. He began walking to the kitchen. "You need a cup of orange juice, and we _have_ to try and break this fever."

"I'm not thirsty." Hermione said. She attempted to run a hand through her hair, but her hair was basically one big not. She, instead, bit her bottom lip.

Ron came back into the living room, holding a huge cup of orange juice. He handed it to her, and watched as she held her cup in her hands. "Hermione," He began. "You need to drink this."

"I'm not thirsty." Hermione said. "Leave me alone."

"Hermione-"

"You're the one in my house, you have to listen to me." Hermione snapped. She was getting frustrated now. "If I don't want something, then I don't want it. If you can't handle that, then leave." Hermione was near shouting now. She wasn't feeling good, and she was trying to get this through to Ron.

"Fine." Ron said. "I'll leave." He was getting frustrated, and he couldn't stand the fact that Hermione wasn't listening to him! If she didn't want any help, then she could fend for herself, and he'll go back to work.

Ron reached for his cloak, which was lying on an empty chair. His wand was in his cloak, and he pulled it out. He was about to apparate away when-

"Wait!" Hermione said, realizing that he was about to leave. "I'll drink it." And she lifted the cup to her lips, and began taking baby sips. She didn't really want Ron to leave. She just didn't want to listen to him. She hated being babied, especially when she _thought_ she was capable of doing things on her own.

Sadly, she hadn't realized that she wasn't.

Ron watched as Hermione drank her orange juice. He couldn't help the smile that was tugging at his lips. Unconsciously, she had determined that she needed him there!

Ron took his cloak off, and set his wand on the small end table. Then he sat on the arm of the couch and looked at the back of Hermione's head.

"Why are you so stubborn?" He asked. "You know you need my help—"

"I do not need your help." Hermione said, turning slowly to look at him.

"Don't lie. It makes you look bad. You know you need my help," Hermione made a noise in protest. "why can't you just accept me and my help?"

"I do accept you." Hermione said. She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. She wasn't going to admit it out loud that she needed help. Maybe just internally…

"You would have suffered alone and hungry if I hadn't of gone to the store for you." Ron said.

"Shut up." Hermione said in return. She leaned her head back on the couch. She closed her eyes tightly. "Why isn't this headache going away?" She asked.

"I don't know." Ron said. He slowly slid off the arm of the couch, and sat down next to her. "Maybe it's part of the fever or something."

Hermione slowly turned her head towards Ron, but she didn't open her eyes. After a moment, she opened them, but she was squinting. Ron looked at her in return. "Are you awake?" Ron asked, thinking she had fallen asleep.

Hermione shook her, and then she said something underneath her breath. Ron could have swore, that Hermione had just sworn under her breath.

Before Ron could confront Hermione about her alleged crime of swearing, she had shifted and leaned her head against his chest. Totally taking him by surprise, Ron could have sworn he stopped breathing.

"I think I should tell you something really important." Hermione said, into his chest.

"And what's that?" Ron asked.

"I lo-" Hermione began, but she quickly changed her wording and said, "I have to throw up." She quickly removed her head from Ron's chest, and before she had realized what he was doing, Ron had picked her up, and was running towards the bathroom.

He set her down by the toilet, and lifted the seat. Hermione leaned her head over it, and Ron grabbed her hair and held it back.

Ron began rubbing Hermione's back, as she was emptying the contents of her stomach.

When Hermione was finished, she flushed the toilet. Ron again, reached over and got the glass of water. He handed it to Hermione, after filling it up again, and she swigged her mouth and spit it out.

Hermione turned towards Ron, and he let go of her hair. He noticed that she was crying, and suddenly, her arms were around him, and her head was buried in his chest.

"Why does it feel like I'm dying?" She asked.

"You'll get better Hermione." Ron said. "I promise. I'll stay here until I don't have to hold your hair back, and you can walk around the flat on your own."

"I don't feel good." Hermione sobbed. She hugged him tighter, and finally, Ron wrapped his arms around her. He knew Hermione was having this _breakdown_ because she was ill.

After a few minutes, Hermione stopped, and she slowly removed her head from his chest.

Ron couldn't help notice the way her face turned pale, and was blotchy red after she cried. Her nose was shiny too.

"Are you better?" Ron asked.

"I don't feel better." Hermione said. She sniffed, and tried to get out of Ron's lap, but his arms were still around her.

"Oh, sorry 'bout that." Ron said, quickly letting Hermione go. She smiled at him, and the redness on Ron's ears seemed to increase.

Ron stood up abruptly. He reached down, and grabbed Hermione's hand, and helped her onto her feet.

Hermione felt an extreme rush, and as she stood up, she wobbled on her feet. Ron held her steady, and then the two of them walked back into the living room. Hermione got back onto the couch, and squirted some more hand sanitizer on her hands. Ron covered her with the blanket, and then went into the kitchen, bustling around to reheat Hermione's bowl of soup.

After two minutes and forty-five seconds, Hermione's soup was done, and Ron brought it back out to her.

Hermione gladly took the bowl, and hate a little more than she had the last time. Ron made sure that she ate at least seven spoonfuls, before taking her bowl, and cup back out to the kitchen.

Hermione sniffed, and afterwards, she sneezed. She tried reaching for her Kleenex, but she couldn't reach it. Ron came into the room, and watched in an amused manner, before getting her the box, and giving her the tissue. Hermione smiled at him gratefully, before blowing her nose.

Hermione closed her eyes, and sniffed.

"Hermione, you need to rest." Ron said. "If you get some rest, this cold thing will go away."

"It would go away if I had the proper medication." Hermione said. She sighed and patted the spot next to her. "Come sit." She said.

Ron sat down next to her. "You know, I'm going to get this, and I'm going to get it worse than you."

"If that's possible." Hermione stated. She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder.

It was quiet for a few minutes, and Ron had thought Hermione had fallen asleep. He stared at her for a moment, and then her eyes opened. "I never finished my sentence from before." She stated quietly.

Ron looked at Hermione. "I know." He said, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"Do you want to know what I was going to say?" She asked.

"I guess."

Hermione took a deep breath. "I love you." Hermione said quietly.

Ron was quiet a moment, staring at Hermione. At first, when he heard her say this, his eyes opened _rea_l wide. He couldn't believe that she said this _out loud_.

"I think it's the fever that's talking." Ron said quietly. "You need more sleep."

"It's not the fever talking!" Hermione said angrily. It had taken her a long time to say this, and she happened to be sick when she said it, and now he thought it was the fever talking.

"Okay." Ron said simply, believing her, because she was getting mad that he wasn't believing her.

"Okay?" Hermione said, slowly lifting her head off his shoulder. Her head was now pounding from her nearly yelling at him. "Is that all you're going to say is 'okay'?" She asked, a bit calmer, but her skull still feeling like it was going to explode.

"I was going to kiss you, but seeing how you're sick, I'd rather not."

"Oh." Hermione said, putting her head back on his shoulder. She felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water on her head. She was scared that Ron didn't like her.

"Aren't you going to ask me if I love you?" Ron asked. He looked at her closely.

"Do you love me?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Of course I do." Ron said simply. He kissed Hermione on the forehead and said, "Now sleep. You need your rest."

-----

BB/N: Should there be another chapter? Or is this finished? Hmm…

Demi: I really enjoyed reading your review. Hopefully you're feeling better, and yes, I know the feeling of boredom. It's almost as bad as writers block. I'm glad that I'm your second favorite author, and that I'm not your first! It's too much pressure! LoL. Throwing up is the worst. On Monday I went to the doctors, and they told me I have a sinus infection and a pinched nerve in my back…so yeah.

Hopefully, everyone is having a Nice Day or Evening!

And Amanda Skeen, how dare you go and get suspended? Now you have a record.

Yes Chrys, my internet is finally on!

And for everyone who ever gets sick: Ibuprofen is the cure for every cold or flu in the world. :)

Forever More,

Bob Bennit


	5. Ron Germs

**Being Watched While Being Ill**

**Summary: **You'll never know that your best friend loves you back, until he's making you soup and holding your hair back as you throw up. A Ron and Hermione Story.  
**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup either.**

**Chapter Four: Ron Germs**

Harry sighed and walked up the stairs to Hermione's flat. He had run to the store before going home. He wanted to make sure Hermione had enough soup and good tasty fluids.

He was a little angry at the cashier woman at the market that he went to. She had asked if someone was sick, and when Harry replied that his friend was sick, the woman had said that maybe he should try saltines. She also said that another young gentleman had come earlier, and that the saltines would settle the lady who was sick.

Harry hadn't told this cashier that it was a 'lady' who was sick, and the cashier had no right to suggest picking up a home pregnancy test either.

First of all, Hermione would never get pregnant without being married. Second of all, that type of thing was Ron's job. It was funnier to see him get all worked up about things like that.

He stood outside the door, and balanced the bag in his arms, and knocked on the door. When no one answered it, he knocked a bit louder, but again, no answer. He put his ear against the door, and tried to listen. He couldn't hear anything.

He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it. It was unlocked, so he just opened it. He walked into Hermione's flat, and shut the door. "Hey! I brought some more soup! Is anyone here?" Harry called, after glancing around the living room and not seeing Ron or Hermione.

What Harry heard in reply of his comment, made him flinch.

"Hermione Granger! Hurry, I'm about to get sick all over myself."

It was Ron. And he sounded sick.

Harry put the bag on the floor, and began walking towards where Ron's voice came from. Harry got there in time to see Ron throw open the bathroom door, and run into the room. Hermione came out, looking a little paler than Ron had. When she saw Harry, she immediately backed up.

"Harry! You have to leave. You'll get sick!" Hermione said, her voice not very loud.

Harry nodded his head, already feeling a little ill, because he could see what was wrong with Hermione.

"There's soup by the front door." Harry said quickly, before apparating away, and to St. Mungo's. He didn't want to get sick, and he knew Ginny would give him something to kill the germs he got from Hermione's flat.

Hermione turned around, and went to the bathroom. "Ron, are you okay?" Hermione asked, knocking on the door. She felt lightheaded, and her knees were shaking. She didn't have enough strength to stand at the door, and she felt like she was about to fall over. All she heard in return was the toilet flushing. After a minute or so, the door opened, and Hermione nearly fell, because she was leaning on the door.

Ron looked disheveled as he opened the door. His eyes were a little watery, and he sniffed, as his nose began to run.

"I got what you got." Ron said. He turned off the bathroom light and stood in the hallway. He squinted at Hermione, trying to keep her in focus. He felt like he was going to fall over.

Hermione was about to suggest to him that he get something to drink, and then lay down, but she sneezed.

"Bless you." Ron said. He watched as Hermione stumbled away from him and into the living room. She blew her nose, and then put hand sanitizer on her hands. Ron walked into the room behind her, and threw himself onto the couch.

"Do you want something to drink?" Hermione asked. She glanced at the clock and then out the window. She was surprised to see that it was dark outside.

"Orange juice please." Ron said, putting an arm over his eyes and breathing slowly. He felt like this…whatever it was attacked him, and was now getting him sick fast. His head hurt, his nose was running and clogged, his throat hurt, and his stomach felt upset.

His body felt stiff, and along with his stomach feeling upset, it felt like he had cramps too. His stomach hurt that bad.

Hermione looked sadly at Ron. She hadn't meant to make him sick. "I'm sorry Ron." She said, going to the kitchen. She opened up one of her cupboards and got a large glass. She got him a large glass of orange juice, and she slowly walked into the living room. Her knees felt so weak, and she was surprised that she had made it into the living room.

Ron was asleep when Hermione returned. She set the cup on the end table, and then went to Ron. She felt his forehead, and shook her head. He was running a fever.

Hermione had broken her fever after she woke from her second nap. That was around when Ron started to feel ill.

Hermione looked at Ron. His face was an extreme pale color, his freckles standing out like blemishes. His cheeks and ears had a slight pink tinge to them, and his nose was shiny.

Hermione sighed. Ron wasn't going to get a lot of rest on the couch, seeing how his long legs were hanging off, and his head was cocked at an angle. "Ron, come on, wake up." She said, shaking him. "You need to lay down on a bed."

"I don't want to." Ron mumbled, trying to push Hermione's voice out of hearing distance. It wasn't working.

"Come on." Hermione persisted. "I'll help you up. You can sleep in my bedroom." Hermione said. The sudden thought of her bed made her yawn, and she tried to fight off the sudden urge to leave Ron on the couch, and go sleep on her own bed.

"Will you lay down with me?" Ron asked, looking at Hermione for the first time. He was squinting at her, his head hurting because the light in the room.

Hermione sighed. "Sure." She said. She smiled as he slowly sat up, and held his hand in the air. Hermione, using all of her strength, pulled Ron to his feet.

The two of the stumbled a bit, but Ron managed to steady the both of them. Hermione smiled at him, and then she turned around and started walking to her bedroom.

Ron shoved his hands in his pocket and sighed. It was really getting warm in the flat, and it was making him uncomfortable.

Hermione threw open her bedroom door, and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She couldn't bear to turn on the lights, because she knew it would hurt Ron's eyes.

Walking to her window, she opened the curtains, allowing just a faint light from the street come into her bedroom.

Ron walked into her room, and immediately he took off his shirt, throwing it onto the floor. Hermione just watched him as he sat down on her bed. He slowly bent over and began untying his shoes.

"You're going to sleep shirtless in my bed?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Yeah," Ron said, not looking at her, "Unless you're afraid that my skins going to chafe and fall off, and then you'll get Ron germs." He stated, looking up at her after taking off his left shoe.

"No." Hermione said. She sighed and sat down on the other side of the bed. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

"I'm feeling like bloody—"

"Don't swear." Hermione said.

"Sorry. I'm feeling horrible." Ron said. He took off his right shoe, and allowed it to drop onto the floor.

"I have your orange juice in the living room." Hermione said. "I can go get it and then you can take some medicine." Hermione said, halfway off the bed.

"No, no," Ron said, grabbing her hand. "I'll be fine."

"You're running a fever Ron. The medicine will take care of it." Hermione said. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be fine." Ron said. "I promise." He added. "Just lay down with me, please?"

"Why do you want to lay down with me so bad?" Hermione asked, sitting back down into the bed. She watched as Ron crawled into the bed, and then he rested his head in her lap.

"Because I don't feel good, and I love you." He stated, covering his mouth while he yawned. He closed his eyes as a sharp pain struck his head. He had gasped quietly.

Hermione smiled gently and put her hands in his hair. "Is it that bad?" She asked quietly.

"You have no idea." Ron mumbled. And soon after saying that, he fell asleep. Hermione watched him, shaking her head slowly.

Of course she had an idea! She had just gotten over that bug a few hours beforehand. But maybe she didn't have it as bad as Ron…

Hermione sat quietly on the bed, playing with Ron's hair. For a few minutes, she had been braiding it, but then she thought Ron wouldn't like that, so she undid them, and now she was just running her hands through it.

Ron had only been asleep for a quarter of an hour or so, when he woke with a jolt. Hermione jumped, as he suddenly sat up in the bed.

"Ron, are you okay?" She asked.

"I'm about to get sick…" Ron groaned. He hurriedly got off the bed, and stumbled his way out of Hermione's room. Hermione got off her bed and followed, just in time to see Ron slam the bathroom door shut.

Hermione stood outside the bathroom door, patiently waiting. "Ron?" she asked quietly. When no one answered, she opened the door, and saw Ron sitting on the floor, his head in his hands. His back was to the toilet, and his knees were up to his chest.

"Ron?" Hermione asked again. She stepped into the bathroom, and stood in front of him. He didn't bother to look at her, but he groaned, telling her that he heard her.

"I'm going to get you some ibuprofen." She said. "And break that fever."

"I hate being sick." Ron mumbled, as Hermione began looking in her medicine cabinet for her ibuprofen. When she found it, she got two and then she got his orange juice from the living room.

When she got back into the bathroom, Ron hadn't moved. She prodded him a bit, and then he took the glass. Swallowing the pills, he drank the orange juice. Hermione watched him to make sure that he took the medicine, and he didn't get sick off of it.

After a minute more of sitting down on the floor, Ron stood up. Hermione smiled at him, and then he wrapped his arms around her. "Thanks Hermione." He said quietly.

"No problem. I know you'd do the same for me." Hermione said, smiling slightly. Ron just tightened his grip around her. Hermione's smile got bigger. Ron was a lot more huggable and easier to get emotional around when he was sick.

But she liked him better when he was sick.

"There's nothing like throwing up, and yet having your best friend here to help you get put back together." Ron said, kissing Hermione's forehead. Hermione just smiled.

"You need to go to bed." Hermione said, looking up at him. Ron frowned at her.

"I don't want to." He said, his frown looking preposterous.

"You are." Hermione said. She broke away from the hug and grabbed his hand. She began pulling him to her bedroom. "Or you'll just get sicker.

Ron yawned. He knew he could have planted his feet, probably lose his balance, but planted his feet to make Hermione fall, but he decided that she could rule over her house…just for a little bit.

The two of them lay back down in Hermione's bed, and Ron felt his eyelids getting heavy. Fighting back a yawn, he saw Hermione smile at him. "You're tired."

"I know." Ron said.

It got quiet, and Hermione was sure Ron had fallen asleep. She felt herself dozing off, when Ron shifted and wrapped his arms around her. "Thanks for watching me while being ill." He whispered, around a yawn.

"Same here." Hermione said.

"I love you." Ron said quietly.

"Love you too." Hermione said, quietly, before she heard Ron fall asleep.

-----

BB/N: Hello to my people. You guys are awesome, and I love each and every review! I love them, so…yeah.

I'm taking a break from for a while. It's been nonstop writing since Unplanned Pregnancies, and I think a little recuperation will help my brain cells regenerate, so I can think properly, and therefore, make more stories!

So yeah. I appreciate everything you guys have sent me! I really do!

If I'm not back before the Holidays, but I'm sure I will be…everyone have a nice and safe Holiday(s)!

Love Forever More,

Bob Bennit

11/6/05


End file.
